


Bearer of Agonies

by treibrayc



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26664676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treibrayc/pseuds/treibrayc
Summary: For 4500 years, Taln endured. For 4500 years, Roshar saw peace.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	Bearer of Agonies

**Author's Note:**

> One story that’s always moved me in the Stormlight Archive that I think is under appreciated is Taln’s. I thought I’d try to fill that gap here. Enjoy!

**0**

Taln died. 

That was becoming increasingly common, and it was never pleasant. He had been holding the waterway, alone.  _ No...not alone.  _ His mind felt fuzzy, like the world around him was two steps ahead, and he could only react. He had been holding the waterway...near the southern cliffs. He had been with his men, some of the best...Radiants, as they were called. Ishar’s Knights. 

They had sprung up unexpectedly a few Returns back...as surgebinders, then. Not akin to any code or law. That was...decidedly dangerous. Thankfully, It had not fallen to him to organize and bind those surgebinders into orders.  _ I died.  _

Taln’s train of thought felt jumbled, a mess of thoughts, emotions, and memories. In some ways, it felt overhwelming, a stormwall pressing down on him, and in others, it felt like too little, his mind hollowed out.

The southern waterway been his assigned task, as it would be intense fighting, something he had due training in. The area suited his powers, where both water and stone mixed, allowing for unique applications of his surges. Pali was always worrying about things like that...trying to get the most out of what they could do. Nevertheless, he had died. The enemy was growing increasingly tenacious, and yet humanity resisted.  _ The harder they press us, the harder we resist…  _ Still, they fought on, ragged. Thousands-tens of thousands-hundreds, even had died in these desolations, so close together.  _ No chance to recover, no chance to live life. _

Even the Heralds themselves were growing weak. They were all getting to that point, Taln decided. The point of breaking.  _ We will lose, eventually.  _ Taln sighed, resigned to the fact.  _ So, then, we must allow them as much time as we can.  _ It had been centuries of torture, centuries of being pressed against the enemy’s anvil and hit, over and over again. It had become too much for them. It would be too much for any man.

Taln looked at his surroundings, the black sky, and distant, cold black sun. He stood on a ground of solid obsidian, the ground falling away at steep banks into a sea of beads, spanning the horizon on either side.  _ So it is…  _

He sighed, sitting down on the cool stone, flames shifting and moving over the beads.  _ I can spare a moment to sit...and rest. The others will follow. _ The beads represented the souls-or minds, rather-of objects in the Physical Realm. The flames represented the minds of men, people,  _ life.  _ A flame flickered out just in front of him, perhaps twenty paces. A women, dressed in ragged cloth wraps, stumbled into the realm of the dead. She gasped, Makabaki in appearance, meeting Taln’s gaze, her form already stretching to that point-the distant sun-a point Beyond. Even Taln did not know what lay there. He could only hope he knew the answer. Calm. Rest.

He spoke, quiet, bowing his head to her in reverence, “Be at peace,” He said, low voice rumbling.

She faded.

Taln stood, dusting off his trousers. He felt something tug on him, pull him forward. He stumbled, and sighed. Feeling it tug, and tug, and tug. It was duty,  _ his  _ duty, come round again.

Taln stood on the bank of beads, staring out at the distant horizon, the coalescing threads of light tugging on his spirit. It was the very power of the Oathpact, that could pull him back to Braize, the place men called Damnation. It was an apt enough description. A place of shadows, with a distant pinpoint sun, and a black sky. A place where he was bound with the enemy, scoured and burned, charred, and sliced. Day in, day out, with no reprieve.

He let himself be pulled along by that thread, floating across the endless ocean of beads, clattering and clinking against one another by way of some unseen tide. 

He had never studied this realm, Shadesmar. It had unsettled him, so radically different than the world he knew. Despite that, he had spent the majority of his life here, bound.

Beads and the flames that bobbed above them passed in eyeblinks, barely more than flashes on a dark canvas. Interspersed with the seas were the obsidian stretches, rivers, lakes, and then, the ocean, spanning both horizons, forests springing up with life based here in the Cognitive Realm.

It passed in time.

Taln dropped in the middle of a barren field, obsidian as far as the eye could see. The thread dispersed here, coming undone into threads before disappearing all together. He stumbled to a stop, looking up at the sight that stand before him. Thousands upon thousands of the enemy, Fused now without a body, standing perfectly still, in neat rows. Many had their eyes closed, settling into a rest they fell into each desolation. Taln had no such privilege. He would be awake for every moment, without reprieve.  _ I chose to take this burden...I can’t give in now. Not when so many people depend on me.  _ Those Fused who still remained looked up at him, their eyes like bright coals standing against the night. Even now, they were filled with seething hatred, so wholly consumed by Odium’s influence. 

He walked towards them, unfazed. As he neared their resting place, lines of power began to swirl around him, then around the whole field, surrounding the Fused in a swirling tempest of investiture, the very power of the Oathpact itself. He raised his left hand to the side, summoning a blade of silvery metal, wide at the hilt, but narrowing to a sharp point, nearly eight feet long. He moved to hold the blade in both hands, looking down at his reflection there, and saw someone unfamiliar. 

Taln looked tired, long black hair matted with mud, clothes once regal now stained and torn. His appearance in the Cognitive Realm was a reflection on how he and others perceived himself. 

Without another word, he slammed his blade into the stone. A torrent of investiture flowed through the blade, as it, along with Taln, were bound to the Oathpact.  _ The others will join in time…  _ Two masses of investiture formed in Taln’s hands, forming into ropes that pulled taut. Taln let them pull his arms to the sides, the sensation now familiar. He sighed, scanning the wide field. Soon enough, he saw  _ him.  _ The very spirit of the enemy turned toward him, nothing more than an impression on Taln’s mind, and something started to form in front of him. A spike, barbed and vicious, made of white-gold light crashed into him. He felt it, then, the raking of his soul, the unending, eternal  _ pain  _ that permeated him. He bowed his head, knowing then, that the ordeal had begun. He wondered how long it would last this time.

**1**

In a dark, dark place, under an unmoving sky, Taln endured. He could vaguely sense the passing of time, although there was no external indicator he could count. No sunrise or set, no wind, no tides. He knew time marched on...because it always did. 

His friends hadn’t returned. Perhaps they-a searing pain washed over him. It felt like every pore on his body was being stabbed by a tiny, poisoned needle.  _ It’s not real…  _ He told himself, sucking in air. The pain lessened as he reasoned with himself. While he was a Shadow, he could diminish or increase pain, depending on how he thought about himself. That was the cost-and in some ways-the torture of the Cognitive Realm. If he thought about not having ate, he would grow hungry.

Taln was alone. The Fused had all gone to rest, awaiting the time when he too would break. Even Odium’s attentions had turned away from him, focusing instead on Roshar, perhaps? He felt tired, deflated. The power that swirled around him started to puff off, vanishing into the dark, empty sky.  _ Without the others, it weakens... _

He heaved against the weight of the Oathpact, investiture, like blue-green threads running up his arm. It strained, but pulled taut. 

Taln felt like he was being ripped apart, each side of the Oathpact pulling against him, one man. One man couldn’t hold it alone, that went against its design, its purpose. One man wasn’t strong enough.

Taln held it anyway.

**749**

Taln was a moment away from breaking. He felt tired, and so, so far from home. It had been...years, likely, maybe many years, since he had subjected himself to this ordeal. Years of pain without end, of having the soul cut to shreds, moments away from snapping. He bowed his head, letting the powers of the Oathpact slowly withdraw from him. All his time spent enduring this fate, and it was here that he would break, bend the Oathpact and allow for another desolation.  _ Everything I ever did...everything I’ve tried to do...it’s all for nothing. _

_ Why have they left me here… _

He could feel its gaze now, the enemy. Odium himself, ever present in this place, watching him. It felt cold, yet also burning hot, an odd sensation.

_ I’m sorry. _

Taln reached for his Honorblade, the key that would unlock the Oathpact, allowing Odium’s forces free.

Hand hovering over the blade, he felt his pain subside, weakening. Odium’s eyes were still trained on him, unwavering. Taln felt sick, although he couldn’t get that way in the Cognitive Realm.

Taln shied back, and felt the pain start anew, in some ways stronger than before, if that was possible. Odium’s stare felt searing on him now, like a thousand branding irons each pressed down on his raw skin.

He looked towards that distant point, where all light in this place originated, and wondered what lay past it. Peace? Rest? Neither would come to him now, not if he let go of the power or continued to hold on.

His mind turned to Roshar, and all he protected there. Millions of lives, people both singer and human, depended on him to hold on. 

_ I will be there when I am needed.  _ An ideal of the Stonewards, an order that was based on what Taln strove to become. What he wished he could be.

_ I am needed...here.  _ Taln decided, grabbing hold of the Oathpact once again, light swirling around him like a tempest. 

Odium’s gaze only grew hotter.

**2199**

Taln looked out on a field of black stone, motionless spirits in rows, unmoving, unchanging. Nothing ever changed here, and Taln hoped it never would.

Endure. Endure. Endure. Slowly slip. Slowly break like all the rest of them. Endure. Endure. Slowly break. Die. Burn. Endure.

A figure darted in the corner of his vision, standing out against the obsidian ground. Taln’s eyes scanned the horizon again, and he saw it. A person, hooded, their face obscured, started to make their way up to Taln.

They were inside the barrier of the Oathpact, unrestricted.  _ Impossible.  _ Taln thought, as another wave of pain washed through him. This time it felt like dull clubs pounding against his skin, over and over again. 

The figure approached, looking down. They were in all white-gold robes, flowing in their design, a faint violet penumbra sucking in light around it.

“Talenel…” The figure said, voice raspy, barely more than a whisper. It grated against his ears, ringing, somehow with an odd resonance. “Talenel…” The voice reapeated, louder. It sounded, familiar?  _ Familiar, memories, family, abandoned, alone.  _ His mind felt so jumbled, so tired, it could be hard to think at times.

“I...am he.” Taln said, choking out the words. His mouth felt dry, like he hadn’t drank water in many days.

“Your burden has passed...you may pass on.” The voice said, lowering their hood. A blinding light shone for but a moment, and Taln snapped his eyes shut. In the place of the hooded figure was a man, with dark skin much like Taln’s own, and glowing yellow eyes. He had on long baggy pants that cut off at the shin, and a golden, sleeveless shirt. Tanavast. The one they called Honor.

“My...lord.” Taln bowed his head, still gripping tight to the Oathpact and its power, “I...pass on?”

“Yes, my child. Odium has been splintered. He is no longer a threat to us. Roshar...is safe.” Tanavast said, folding his arms. 

“And the others? The other nine?” Taln said, thinking back on them for the first time in hundreds of years. Time had a certain way of slipping away here. 

“Resting. In that place Beyond, where even I cannot go. It is where you may go, Taln, if you so choose.”

“I-“ Taln looked out once again at the field of Fused, resting, thousands lined up in rows, “What about them...the Fused? Will they remain?”

“I do not know.” Tanavast said, looking back at the spirits.

Taln felt an inkling of doubt cross his jumbled mind, “Even without Odium, they would try to fight...their hatred is so...deep. I must remain...hold them off.” He said, pulling harder on the Oathpact.

“I...perhaps. I hadn’t foreseen that possibility.” Tanavast said, turning to face him again, “So what will it be, my friend?” I can release you from-“

“I will stay.” Taln said, firm. He touched at the white-gold spike that still impaled him, the source of the pain and torment that still grieved him day in and day out. It felt red-hot, searing, even.

“You don’t have to-“ Tanavast reaffirmed, reaching out to grip Taln’s arm.

“I. Will. Stay.” Taln repeated, the words coming to him, cutting through the fog in his mind.

“Talenel…” Tanavast said, shaking his head. A bit of his skin flaked off, revealing a faint violet light gleaming from beneath. Bits and pieces fell from him, puffing into white smoke as they did. Underneath was a man, with a crown on his head, and a scepter in his hand. He had wrinkled skin, and an aged appearance, white hair still flaked with some grey. The man smiled, a faint one. He wore white-gold robes that melted into the obsidian, slowly fading into that deep black. He glowed, with a penumbra, violet, that seemed to drawn in more light than it emitted. In his eyes was an eternity, eyes that had seen the end of peoples, nations,  _ planets, gods.  _ He had seen it all crumble to dust, some crushed between his own fingers. Odium. The enemy.

“...Talenel...It has been a long time, eh? I had to kill Tanavast, and I’ll...get to Cultivation eventually, but it’s so nice to see someone like you now and again,” Odium chuckled, placing his aged hand on Taln’s shoulder. Taln shied back, but he could not back away, not from this man. “You’ve been here an  _ awfully  _ long time. I’m sure your friends back home are awfully worried about you, being gone so long. Would you like to see how they’re doing?” He raised his free hand, an image swirling up around it. A man, clutching a bottle, drunk in an alley, laying on a pile of rottenfood. He had a ragged beard, and wore nothing but a shirt that was more holes than cloth.

“Now, I suppose you wouldn’t recognize this man, would you? It’s no surprise...its been over two thousand years since you last met.” Odium cooed, shoving the image closer to his face.

“Jezrien…? How could you…” Taln shook his head, not believing his eyes. He knew it was his leader, fallen so far.

“The years haven’t been kind to him, you see. It’s a shame I had to push him this far.” Odium clicked his tongue, swirling the image in his hand, where it shifted into one of a young woman, with dark skin, in a dark place, a faint glint of moonlight shining overhead. She cried, face buried in her hands.

“Ash? I...I’m sorry.” Taln leaned forward, reaching toward the picture. Odium pulled it back, just out of reach, before letting it fade away.  _ I never got to tell you how I feel. It’s too late for any of that now...now that I’m here, alone.  _ Taln could see it now, the blood soaked stone. A necklace, both garnet and topaz. A-his mind snapped back to attention, focusing back on Odium.

“Now that you’ve had the chance to check in on your ‘acquaintances,’ I think we should have a chat, you and I. I’ll tell you my plans, how I’m feeling. We can  _ get to know one another.  _ How about it?” Odium smiled, a faint hint of teeth, bared liked fangs.

Taln did not reply.

“Tsk. Tsk. You know it’s not polite to disrespect your elders. I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Odium leaned in closer, putting his hand on Taln’s chin, meeting his eyes, “Talenel. Bearer of the Oathpact…” the god breathed in a slow breath, endless eyes-like twin voids-not moving one inch. “I WILL BREAK YOU.” He said in a quiet tone, though the words resonated through him, rattling the bones. It was as if the puppet Odium presented to him was slipping, and the real force behind it was showing its power.

“I WILL MAKE CERTAIN OF IT. YOU WILL BE NOTHING BUT A MEMORY OF A MEMORY WHEN I AM FINISHED WITH YOU. NO ONE WILL WEEP FOR YOUR PASSING, TALENEL, FOR THERE WILL BE NOTHING LEFT ON WHICH TO WEEP.” Odium said, quiet, yet overwhelmingly powerful. He stepped back, that faint smile still present.

An object started to form in Odium’s hand, as it out of mist. It expanded into a blade, eight feet long, almost like a long spike. It was formed of a white-gold metal, a faint penumbra surrounding it. It was a replica of Taln’s Honorblade, but twisted, formed of Odium’s own power. 

“You may say you have felt true pain, Talenel, but that was nothing compared to what you will experience now. What you experience now is but a fraction of what you could feel. It is...a most distilled passion that I will give you.” Odium said, raising the blade to the side.

Odium swung, cutting through the air, a blank expression forming on his face. The dark god felt nothing, nothing but hatred.

Taln caught the blade in one hand. The power of the Oathpact cracked and frizzed as he strained against the weight and force of the blade. From its impossibly sharp edge, he could feel it. Pain and sorrow unending. Taln gripped it, tighter, pressing his fingers, charged with immense amounts amount of investiture, into the metal. It cracked, thankfully, under the stress, the metal gaining of a web of lines running from where his hand caught it. Odium had a shocked expression on his face, not masked...almost human.

Taln pressed harder, determined. More cracks, and...in a flash of light, it was gone, shattered into pieces, hundreds of them. Shards of that golden metal, without the violet charge. They littered the ground around him, misshapen and molten.

Then it hit him, the pain anew, sharper, more potent than before. New sensations, new  _ hurts.  _ All at once, now, instead of individually or in waves. He fell to his knees, heaving, but nothing would-or could ever-come up. Large chunks of the metal stuck out of him, wickedly shaped and dug into his flesh. He counted eight, plus the original that had pierced him when he first arrived, here in Damnation.’Nine times the pain, then. Nine times the suffering, the sorrow, the grief. Nine times what he would endure, what he  _ must  _ endure, for all the people of Roshar.

Odium smiled, that faint thing, so blank, and faded away, crumbling into dust before that too disappeared. It seemed the predator had decided to stopplaying with its food.

Taln looked out at the rolling black expanse, and smiled, in turn. He stood up, heaving against the Oathpact, and took his place again.

**3689**

  
  
  


Taln wept. 

  
  
  


**4499**

Long. So long. Pain. Death. Inevitable. Hatred all around. Hatred. Pain. Pain.

Taln groaned, leaning forward, straining against the power that bound him there. It had been...far too long.

A mantra rung out in his mind, the only thing keeping him from falling into madness. Perhaps he had already gone there. Taln didn’t know, and frankly didn’t care. He was beyond caring.

_ I am Talenel. I am Talenel. I am Talenel. I am Talenel. I am Talenel. _

The words in his head repeated over and over and over again.

**4500**

Taln collapsed to the ground, pain washing over him like he was in a highstorm.  _ I am Talenel. I am Talenel. I am Talenel. I am...a failure. _

He reached out towards his Honorblade, long, long ago stuck into its place. The silvery metal felt cool in his hand. In a single, fluid motion he pulled the blade from its place, letting it fall from his fingers and clatter to the obsidian.

He cried out, but made no sound, as the power of the Oathpact slowly withdraw from him, dispersing into the empty sky.

One by one, Fused started to awake, red eyes like spots against the dark horizon.

He felt a tugging on him, pulling him away. His blade shattered into mist, as he was drawn back to the world of the living.

—/—

Taln stumbled down an empty road, wearing only a loincloth. He...wasn’t sure where he’d gotten that.  _ I...am Talenel. _

A city rose up in front of him, with massive walls built right out of the stone it sat on. Lights bobbed upon the walls, glowing white, yellow, or blue. Stormlight lamps.

The air was humid, the ground still slicked from rain, crem hardening like scabs on the road.

His blade dragged behind him, cutting a line into the stone.

_ I am Talenel. _

Bits of leaf and branches stuck in his hair. He coughed weakly, looking up at the large gate, shut tight.

He stepped up to the gate, pulling on the large handle. It didn’t move. He pulled again, the wood groaning against his strength.

_ There is no time...I am Talenel...no time. _

He knocked against the wood, the whole gate rattling as he did. Shouts and frantic voices sounded from the other side, as well as...the strum of an instrument?

Bang! He knocked again, the rattling of the gate on its hinges almost deafening.

He knocked a third time, leaving a hole in the wood where he did.

_ No time...no time...he is coming. _

He raised his left hand, blade held in a loose grip. He thrust the silvery weapon into the crack of the gate, cutting the bar that had held it shut.

The gate slowly swung open, revealing a group of panicked soldiers brandishing swords and spears at him.

Taln stepped into the gap, holding his Honorblade before him, cutting into the stone where it sunk below the ground, a blank expression on his face. 

“Who...are you?” One of the guards asked, trembling in fear. A shardbearer unannounced in Kholinar. It was unheard of, impossible, even.

Taln stepped forward, stumbling as he did, leaning against the great city’s gate. He had a wild expression in his eyes, unbalanced. Curiously, they were dark, a deep brown.

Taln met the eyes of the guards, and raked his free hand toward them, “Go,” He said, in perfect Alethi. “Run! Raise the call! Give the warning!” His words were frantic, slurred together. 

One of the guards stepped forward, spear still trained on Taln, “Who are you? What warning? Who attacks?”

Taln sucked in a breath, putting a hand to his head.  _ I am Talenel. Talenel.  _ “Who am I? I...I am Talenel’Elin, Stonesinew, Herald of the Almighty. The Desolation has come. Oh, God...it has come. And I have failed.”

Taln slumped forward, losing his balance. He fell to the ground, Shardblade clattering to the ground behind him. 

He did not stir. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well that does it! I hope you enjoyed :) even if this is a bit of a downer. In the future, I’d like to do more Taln (and Ash?) content, because...love that guy. Not sure what yet, but I have a few ideas. Anyway, thanks as always, and I am so ready for Rhythm of War! :)


End file.
